Chapter One:

Hermione was about to enter her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Although, she had been made Head Girl, Hermione was not looking forward to her final year. Hogwarts had been her home, her place of solitude and comfort over the past several years, and the thought that she would have to leave it forever was not one that she looked forward to.

Of course, she had her friends, but they would never understand her immense desire to remain at the castle forever. They had other lives, other people that could offer them comfort, and she had no-one. Well, she would have no-one after she left. Reluctantly, she looked up toward the Head Table in the Great Hall, and her heart stopped.

She was there, sitting elegantly as she always did. She was the reason that Hermione excelled in her studies and became so full of information. However, she was also the person that could break her heart, and would, come the end of the year. Hermione sighed, she would have to learn to move on, regardless of the fact that she thought she never would.

Harry looked closely at his friend, she had seemed so forlorn when they had arrived. She had been hovering between happiness and sadness, and Harry couldn't seem to understand her huge and sudden change in emotions. Just now she had been looking up at the Head Table with a look of longing that Harry had never seen before. It was the most desperate and loving expression that he had ever seen, and it pulled at his heart to see his friend so unhappy.

"Hermione," he asked gently, as Ron stuffed his face, "What's wrong?"

"What?" she asked, astonished. She had thought that she had been so careful with her glances and emotions, but it seemed that Harry had picked up on it regardless, "Why would you think that any thing's wrong?"

"Well, you've been either really happy or really sad and just now you -"

Hermione cut him off, "Shhh. I don't want everyone to know. I'll tell you later, after the feast, alright?"

Harry nodded, but asked, "And Ron?"

"Maybe another time," she said, as she looked at him now eating two chicken pieces simultaneously.

Minerva looked down at the Gryffindor table, at the one student who was able to make her feel everything that she had tried so hard not to. Minerva knew that this was the year that she would have to let go of the young woman, but she vowed that she would never be able to fully do so.

She had reminded Minerva so much of herself, being able and always prepared. But Minerva had always known, that although she projected only motherly affection toward the young woman, this woman would hold her heart. She had no-one to talk to, her soul companion would leave at the end of the year, and she would go back to being the strict and miserable old woman that had haunted the halls of Hogwarts for many years.

Minerva sighed, this year, she would distance herself from her star pupil so that when, at the end of the year, when they had to say 'goodbye' it would not be as painful.

Albus looked closely at Minerva, she had seemed so withdrawn throughout the vacation break, and now she seemed forlorn. He wondered if it had something to do with this being the trio's final year at Hogwarts. He wasn't particularly happy about it being their final year, as he had grown quite fond of all three. But he didn't understand how Minerva's happiness seemed to depend on the trio.

"Minerva, are you alright?" he asked quietly, seeing the happiness that had briefly been on her face, disappear and be replaced with an expression of most sadness, which was also quickly concealed.

"Yes, of course, Albus. Why do you ask?"

"You seem very forlorn and sad. Is something the matter, my dear?"

Minerva desperately wanted to tell him, but this was one secret that she knew she would have to keep to herself. After all, she had broken one of the most important teaching rules.

"No, I'm perfectly fine, Albus. Just a little tired."

Albus nodded, but seemed to be concerned regardless. He vowed to observe her closely for the remainder of the year to see if she got any better.

For the remainder of the Welcoming Feast, both Albus and Harry kept a close eye on Minerva and Hermione. Their expressions seemed to change continuously from happiness, sadness, longing and heart-ache. However, these expressions were all quickly replaced by a look of hopelessness that seemed to permeate the air around them and remain present, regardless of any conversation that was held.

Later that evening, Harry cornered Hermione, after Ron had gone to bed.

"You want to tell me what's wrong?" he asked softly, "You just seemed so sad throughout the Feast, and, though I have no idea why, you keep looking up to the Head Table with this strange expression. It was almost like you wished you were up there," as tears began to roll down Hermione's cheeks, Harry enfolded her in a gentle hug, "I just wish I knew why you were so upset."

"There's nothing you can do," she sobbed, holding him tightly.

"There's always something you can do. Tell me what's wrong?" he asked gently, as she sobbed more heavily at hearing his words.

"I don't know what to do anymore. It's so stupid, I should have been able to stop it."

"Stop what?"

Now, absolutely confronted with the issue, Hermione's voice caught in her throat and panic overtook her. She began to hyperventilate, and Harry rubbed her back soothingly, "Shhh. In and out," he whispered repeatedly and she began to calm.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, the tears still flowing, "so sorry."

"It's okay. I'm sorry for pushing you. We should go to sleep, we've got to be awake for Transfiguration tomorrow morning."

At hearing that they had Transfiguration tomorrow morning, Hermione burst into more sobs and ran from the room and up the stairs to her Head Dormitory. Harry shook his head, he had no idea what was going on, but he knew that when Hermione was ready, she would confide in him.

The following morning, Harry woke to find Hermione sitting in an armchair in the lounge, staring into space. It looked as though she had been there for some time, and as though she had been crying for a few hours.

"Hey, you ready to go to breakfast?"

Hermione looked up as though she was just seeing him for the first time.

"I have to go see Professor McGonagall this morning."

Harry cocked his head, as though he was curious, "Why? Did she request that you see her?"

"No, it's just something about the classes and the start of term," When Harry didn't say anything, she said, "I've got to go, I'll see you in Transfiguration."

As Hermione walked through the halls to the Transfiguration Professors' office, she thought carefully about what she was going to say, or if she should say anything at all. After all, this was not something that generally happened, and if something went wrong, then Hermione was sure that she would not survive it.

She knocked on the portrait of Godric Gryffindor that was the entrance to Professor McGonagall's office. As she heard footsteps approach, and saw the portrait open, Hermione was overcome by a bout of extreme nerves. Apologising quickly Hermione left Professor McGonagall standing with a confused expression upon her face.

Hermione ran up to the Head's Dormitory and remained there, cursing her feelings and her cowardice.